Page 72 of Highlander’s Evil Side

Helga gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, and Beitris wondered if the woman would break down into tears. She looked to be holding herself back. Helga’s eyes clamped closed, and she inhaled deeply, her shoulders shaking with the effort.

“Are ye alright, my lady?” Laird Gordon asked, craning his head towards her.

Something was wrong, Beitris realized as she watched Helga open her eyes and turn to Beitris’s father. Was Fraser’s mother so fearful he wouldn’t return? She acted as if she was in shock.

Helga nodded. “I’m fine. I will have a bath prepared for ye in yer rooms, Laird Gordon,” she said while stepping away from Beitris’s father and towards the keep. “Ye must be exhausted from yer adventure. If ye follow me, I will find a servant to tend to ye.”

“Thank ye once more, Laird MacClery,” said Laird Gordon to Fraser before following Helga into the keep.

Beitris moved to follow her father and Helga, but a sharp tug on her wrist propelled her backward and into Fraser’s arms. She held back a cry as Fraser’s arms wrapped tightly around her, his hand cupping her bottom. Beitris stilled in his arms, staring up at him with worry and shock.

“Fraser,” she whispered harshly, looking around and finding Scott standing and mirroring her horrified look. “This is not the place nor the time.”

A mischievous gleam glinted in Fraser’s gaze, and his lips tipped upward into a dark smirk she had never seen before. “Of course, my lady,” he spat while releasing her. He stroked a stray hair behind her ear while leaning in close, breathing, “I will join ye in yer chambers after I have washed.”

Beitris frowned as a spider-like crawl shivered down her back. Instinctually, she stepped away from him. His breaths smelled of rot and ale, sending her back to that time in the garden. Her hands fisted at her sides as she watched Fraser stalk towards the keep, looking around the courtyard in an appreciating manner she had never seen him convey before.

She heard movement at her side and turned, finding Scott hovering near her. “Something is very wrong, my lady.”

Beitris nodded. “Indeed it is.”

“Fraser would never leave our men behind. Not without a proper burial.” Scott grimaced. “Gavin and Kenneth were our friends—his friends. He would never leave them to be eaten by animals. He wouldn’t—” Scott stopped, looking away. Beitris noticed the clench of his jaw, the tears threatening to slip from his eyes. His hands fisted, as if he would sooner hit something than break down into tears.

Beitris felt his pain. Kenneth and Gavin were good men. They did not deserve to be left behind. She clamped her eyes closed, fighting the need to cry for their loss. The need to run in search of them filled her very being, but she kept her feet rooted to the ground so as not to flee.

“I know,” she breathed. She shoved her hand into her skirt pockets, bringing forth Hendry’s letter. Opening her eyes, she pressed the paper into Scott’s grasp. “Ye mustn’t tell a soul,” she whispered while looking around. “I have written to Hendry Dunbar. He and his men are riding towards us as we speak.”

Scott nodded, holding her gaze. “I will ride to him now.”

“Ye should take—”

Scott shook his head. “I will go on my own. Now.” He glanced around them, a dark look shadowing his gaze. “We do not know who can be trusted behind these walls. We’ll need good men to help if need be.”

Beitris nodded, watching Scott turn on his heel and stride briskly towards the stables. She straightened her shoulders, and with a long inhale, strode into the keep, knowing she would need to do something about her husband-to-be.

* * *

Beitris was sitting at the desk, gazing out the window at the saturated fields, when the knock thudded at her door. She rose slowly, her legs trembling as they brought her closer towards the entrance, knowing exactly who stood outside. Her hand paused, hovering above the handle. The knock thudded again, but she didn’t move. Perhaps, if she feigned exhaustion or simply did not answer, he would leave her be.

But what if she was wrong?

What if Fraser’s strange acts were due to his grief. Losing two soldiers, especially ones that were close, had to be difficult—it had to take something from the soul. Beitris had read and heard of men acting strangely after a battle. She remembered hearing the haunting screams filling the castle walls after returning from several days filled with battle and blood. Perhaps, this strange behavior could be akin to that. She didn’t want to leave Fraser all alone with his pain, given everything he sacrificed to save her father.

The knock thudded again, harder this time, and Beitris flinched. She grasped the handle and yanked it open, coming face to face with Fraser. Two guards stood on either side of her door. Men she did not recognize, but who wore the MacClery colors. Her gaze turned on Fraser, and her heart fluttered at his blue eyes gazing back at her with such love and adoration. Yet, something predatory lurked beneath, making her take a step back.

“I have missed ye,” Fraser breathed, stepping inside and kicking the door closed. “It’s been far too long.”

Beitris raised her hand. “Wait, my laird.” She took a step back, followed by another, wincing when the backs of her legs hit her bed.

Fraser smiled wide and toothy, reminding her of a snake about to strike. “I’ve waited long enough.”

Fraser took one step forward, and Beitris didn’t wait. She slapped him clear across the cheek. Fraser blinked back at her while Beitris held her breath, waiting for his answer, praying to the heavens that this feeling twisting inside her was wrong. She shivered as Fraser’s smile dissipated. Anger and amusement gleamed back at her. His hands fisted at his sides while he tilted his head.

“Say it,” she breathed, her body quivering in fear. “Say the words.”

Fraser seized her hand, wrenching her towards him. His grip on her fist was tight, nearly bruising, and he peered down her, his mouth open, like a snake about to swallow its prey whole. “I’ll permit that just this once, Beitris,” he said darkly. “But don’t think ye can hit me again and get away with it.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Unless that’s what ye enjoy when we’re in bed.”

Beitris trembled, her legs giving out. She fell onto the edge of the bed, her hands gripping the bedsheets as she inhaled deeply. The air was thick. She couldn’t breathe properly. Her vision was dizzying, and she feared she would faint at any moment.